Keeping Secret What Is Fair

"Hadst thou liv’d when chivalryLifted up her lance on high,Tell me what thou wouldst have been?Ah! I see the silver sheenOf thy broidered, floating vestCov’ring half thine ivory breast;Which, O heavens! I should see,But that cruel destinyHas placed a golden cuirass there;Keeping secret what is fair.Like sunbeams in a cloudlet nestedThy locks in knightly casque are rested:O’er which bend four milky plumesLike the gentle lilly’s bloomsSpringing from a costly vase.See with what a stately paceComes thine alabaster steed;Servant of heroic deed!O’er his loins, his trappings glowLike the northern lights on snow.Mount his back! thy sword unsheath!Sign of the enchanter’s death;Bane of every wicked spell;Silencer of dragon’s yell.Alas! thou this wilt never do:Thou art an enchantress too,And wilt surely never spillBlood of those whose eyes can kill."-John Keats